


Voices

by Womble1



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:15:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28987686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Womble1/pseuds/Womble1
Summary: Alan is getting fed up trying to do his homework
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Voices

Alan was sat at the kitchen table, or more accurately draped across it with his face flat on the worksurface. He was sporting a look of abject despair and letting out a low groan. The whole image had Virgil bypassing casual curiosity and jumping straight into concerned medic mode as he walked into the kitchen. 

“What's up Allie? Is your arm hurting, is something wrong?” his eyes were frantically assessing the situation while his mind ran through possible causes and escalations, one part of his brain was already plotting flight paths to the nearest hospital. 

“Huh, what? No, I’m fine” Alan raised his head and caught a wiff of the impending smothering threatening to come and engulf him. He pulled his arm out of reach as Virgil looked like he was about to take possession of it in order to thoroughly check the cast, again. 

“It’s fine, doesn't even hurt” he flapped Virgils reaching fingers away with his good hand. “It's just this voice recognition software all my coursework has been set up with while my arm heals. I don't know what century they got this in, but it just doesn't recognise my voice.” his voice rose in pitch as he reminded himself of his hopeless situation. 

Virgil's shoulders relaxed as he realised that the problem wasn't medical and he even went so far as to roll his eyes at his brother's dramatics. Alan would have been annoyed, but he was too busy planting his head back on to the countertop to spot the eye rolling that his theatrics produced.

“So you're fine, but the computer won't listen to you? Is that what you're telling me?”

“Well, yes, but it's more complicated than that, aaaand I can't finish my assignment, and Scotts going to expect me to get ahead on my work since I’m not out on rescues since I bust my arm, so I’m probably going to get the talk about managing my workload and responsibilities again and he’ll threaten me with an online tutor again” Alan was listing the perceived problems off one at a time on the fingers of his good hand and getting thoroughly carried away. 

“Ok, ok, ok, let's take it one at a time, before you get all the way to the sky falling” Virgil parked himself in the free seat next to him and leaned in to see what Alan had been working on. “So what was that about the voice software?”

Alan took a long breath in, and launched back into the tale of woe “the system that the assignments have been set up on is so old that it isn't picking up my voice half that time, and it's ending up as gibberish, and it's so frustrating, because I lose track of what I was trying to say so it takes twice as long.”

“Do you want me to have a go and see if we can work out the cause of the problem?” Alan could tell Virgil was using the calming logical voice on him and had to resist the urge to let out another groan. He pulled up the settings and set up the programme ready to take the dictation again.

“Go for it, see if it likes you better” Alan leaned back in his seat and folded his arms, ready to watch Virgil struggle as he had for the last few hours, let's see him stay all calm once he has battled this computerised nightmare, then he’d understand.

Virgil hit the start button, and read through a few lines from the text on the next open window, a pause and then a few more lines, and still no glitches appeared. Virgil raised a questioning eyebrow at Alan, who watched on gobsmacked as it all suddenly behaved as it ought to. 

“Do you want to try again Alan?”

“Oh alright, but if it messes up again then I will know it just hates me”

“Dramatic.” Virgil deadpanned, and set the programme running again.

Predictably everything went to pieces as soon as Alan attempted to repeat the same text, words were missed, lines were jumped, formatting took on a life of its own.

“Uuugghhhh! It hates me, I give up!” his head met the countertop again and he no longer tried to hold back the pitiful groan that had been threatening to escape. 

“Overkill much? You do remember you have a communications expert for a brother right? Ever think to ask him to take a look?”

“Nope” came the muffled reply from the tabletop

“Hey John! Do you think you could help a brother out?”

John's hologram popped up with his arms folded and a stern expression “If it's Gordon, you can tell him that I am not clearing any more embarrassing photos off social media from him. He's got to learn not to do anything he doesn't want photographic evidence of. Also I can't unsee some of that stuff” Virgil wasn't going to ask about that, the less he knew the better, plausible deniability was a thing worth maintaining. 

“Not this time John, we were wondering if you could have a look at the voice interaction platform Alans coursework has been loaded onto, it seems to be a bit glitchy, and its bringing out the diva in Alan” he pointed down to Alans prone form on the worksurface next to him.

John unfolded his arms and his whole aspect softened, “yeah sure, I’ve got a bit of time at the moment, I’ll take a look now, tell him I’ll give him a call when I have an update.”

“I’m right here!” whined Alan. John and Virgil exchanged synchronised shrugs and ended the holocall.

An hour later, and Alan had been cheered up with a snack (which may or may not have been from Scotts secret stash, but Virgil figured he would probably have offered it himself if he had been there) and a magical mystery milkshake, which was also probably best not to ask too many questions about. John's hologram blinked back into existence over the kitchen table.

“Hey Alan, I think I have worked out what the issue was.” 

Virgil grabbed his mug of coffee and came around to Alan's side of the table, scooching his chair up beside him so that he was in the video call too. After investing the time in cheering the drama queen up, he was intrigued to find out what the problem had been. 

“What was it then John, something highly complicated requiring the full processing might of Thunderbird 5?” Virgil asked. 

“Not quite, it seems that the programme just doesn't pick up on higher octaves.”

Virgil snorted as he suppressed a laugh “What?” asked Alan

“He’s saying your voice is too high to be picked up by the programme” Virgil translated, and Alan's face fell into a pout.

“That's why it didn't have any problem picking up Virgil.” added John. 

“Oh great, so I need to get him to read out all of my coursework?”

“When’s the deadline?” Virgil chuckled, “puberty is due soon, right John?” he flinched instinctively as Alan scowled at him and punched him in the arm, only making him laugh more.

John shook his head slightly, once again glad he was a civilised distance from his immediate family. “That won't be necessary -” he tried to continue his explanation but was interrupted.

“I think Alan might find puberty necessary!” Virgil was fully chortling now, caught up in his own joke and impervious to Alan's death glares. He was holding his hands loosely up in defense against further punches.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it Virgil,” John sighed the sigh of those who are constantly tested by the stupidity of the world around them. “What I was going to say, before I was interrupted for a third rate joke, was that I have managed to amend the settings of the programme and it should now pick up Alan's voice.”

Virgil was still a giggling mess, and Alan threw one last punch at his brother's shoulder while he was distracted wiping the tears out of his eyes with the corner of his shirt.

Alan turned back towards the hologram. “Thank you John, at least I have one brother who is actually willing to help me!”

“Sorry, what was that? My devices couldn't quite pick up that high frequency whining” John shot back, with a hand cupped to his ear. That set Virgil off again, and had him grabbing at his ribs and raising one arm to defend himself against Alans punches again. Since Alan couldn't get at John he was going to take it out on Virgil. Said punch bag was now such a giggling mess that one particularly accurate poke in the ribs sent him toppling off his seat with an undignified, and rather high pitched, squeal.


End file.
